My little boy came into the kitchen this evening while I was fixing supper, and he handed mea piece of paper he'd been writing on, and after wiping my hands on my apron, I readit, and this is what it said, for mowing the yard, five dollars, making my own bed thisweek, one dollar, and going to the store, fifty cents, and watching little brother whileyou went shopping, twenty-five cents.Fortakingthathome, andout the trash one dollar. Getting a good report card, five dollars. And raking the yard, twodollars. Total old, fourteen seventy-five. Well, I stood there looking at him expectantlyand a thousand memories flashed through my mind. So I picked up the pen and turning thepaper over, this is what I wrote. For the nine months I carried you, growing insideme, no charge. For the nights I sat up with you, doctored you, prayed for you.you no charge for the time and the tears and the cost through the years there's no chargewhen you add it all up the full cost of my love is no chargefor the nights filled with dread and the worry of hate no chargefor advice and the knowledge and the cost of your college no chargefor the toys food and clothes and for wiping your nosethere's no charge son when you add it all up the full cost of my love is no chargewell when he finished reading he had great big old tears in his eyesand he looked up at me and he said mama i sure do love you then he took the pen and in greatbig letters he wroteyoupaid in fullwhen you add it all up the cost of real love is no charge